I've done a few bike trips in recent years through Dumfries and Galloway. The impetus has generally been to visit my folks whilst they were on holiday in the area as well as bagging some of the fine riding available. A few months ago Mum and Dad had booked a cottage at Monreith near Whithorn on the Solway coast for a week in October given that it was looking like things should be reasonably back to normal-ish by then. I took the same week off work as me and friends were supposed to be going to Glencoe for a long weekend, and I hoped to follow this with a short bike tour through D&G visiting my parents en-route. Of course it all went pear shaped again and restrictions started to come in thick and fast as the politicos scrambled to outdo each other. Glencoe was kyboshed so instead I decided to enter the BB200 in Wales. Knee issues made the somewhat brutal looking route a bit marginal and with the threat of more restrictions (and of being burned alive by aggrieved locals) this also got canned. Instead I spent the weekend riding the motorbike to the place my folks were staying; cashing in on what looked like the only decent weekend of the week I'd got off work. It was a nice spot with great sea views:-
Monday was looking like it was going to be a washout so I headed home Sunday afternoon. Back home I scrutinised the weather forecast with a plan to return unannounced, this time on the bike, including my October BAM in the proceedings. Thursday looked good but of course by Wednesday morning things had deteriorated somewhat. A bit of selective forecast viewing convinced me it could still be dry so I threw the loaded straggler in the back of the car and cruised down to Moffat.
Of course by the time I got down there the clouds had closed in and it looked pretty murky over the hills. Un-deterred, I abandoned the car and headed on a now familiar route from Moffat to Beattock and then up the hill into Ae forest on National Cycle Route 10. It was damp rather than actually raining but on entering the forest it got damper and damper, then was actually raining in earnest - one of those fine but dense drizzles that soaks you in short order. So into the water-proofs and onward, visibility falling as I entered the cloud. Hmm. First a van came past and then I was startled out of my usual riding-in-the-rain daze by a large logging truck rumbling up behind me. What's all this about then? As usual I took a wrong turn (third time I've done this!) and noted the extensive forestry work ongoing above Branrigg, fortunately away from my route. Branrigg is an old outdoor centre that is deserted, somewhat derelict, but actually somewhere I'd thought to bail to for a cheeky bivvy if the weather turned really nasty. In the event I got back on track and as I descended the rain eased off then stopped. This lead me to plan A - a great spot I'd bivvied at in September 2018 doing a similar trip to visit the parents in another holiday cottage.
This is a small clearing off the side of one of the mountain bike trails that must have been cultivated before the forestry appeared. As a result its level, dry and has a wall running round it for shelter and tarp guy attachment purposes. So I got pitched and inside dry before the rain came on again. Annoyingly the mozzies were out but they seemed more interested in shelter inside the tarp than my flesh. No midges though.... That enabled me to have a pleasant evening cooking then eating food (well boiling water and re-hydrating a meal) accompanied by a beer and a drop of whisky to help me sleep. This is the second bivvy of this year I've pitched up early but I couldn't be bothered pedaling into the dark. I turned in at 11 and had a reasonable kip despite several nearby wind turbines disturbing me with various alarming cracks and bangs. Must have dodgy bearings....
Another fine flat tarp pitch. The Deschutes would have been better given the weather but in the event I stayed totally dry.
There was no wind and lo and behold the midges appeared! Not many though so no frantic packing up required, just a leisurely breakfast and then up and out. Annoyingly a fine dreich blew in as I was packing up. I finished the descent then faffed a bit following a route which looked fine on paper but relied on a track through a farm that turned out to be firmly blocked. Ginding my teeth I descended further and exited to the road through the forest. Oddly a new notice had been cable tied to this gate - "No entry, Covid-19!" Eh? so what about all the other entries. And all the guidance which doesn't include shutting forest plantations off. Goodness knows. I contemplated tearing it down but I couldn't be bothered so pedaled up the steady climb through the dampness.
Good news - as I descended down to Kirkpatrick I dropped out of the murk and got a view west of bright skies and even hints of sun. My route then tracked back roads to Thornhill, a bit of the (very quiet) A702 to Penpont, then a great wee road to Moniaive. This was my first steep climb of the day but my single speed hardened legs powered me up it without issue. Out of Moniaive was the first of several long but steady climbs that are a feature of Galloway. Like many such roads it was empty of traffic - this area is still very quiet and largely off the tourist track. Near the top I turned off on a narrow C road that deteriorated to a near track like surface. Several grumpy looking cows grazing either side of (and on) the road added to the sense of abandonment. Ahead though was a great view of the main hills of Galloway.
These hills go up to 843m (Merrick) and are surprisingly rugged for such southerly bumps. Really they are the southernmost outpost of the West Highlands and far rockier than the Border hills to the east. For the mountainbiker they are pretty inaccessible however. There are ways up them but its all very boggy and tussocky and best tackled on shanks pony. For bikes you are limited to forestry roads, trail centres, selected sections of the Southern Upland Way, the odd core path (which are well signed hereabouts) and many wee roads such as this one. So the gravel bike is an ideal tool for touring this area. I descended to St Johns Town of Dalry and then started another long climb into the main Galloway Forest park.
I'd had a notion to do the Southern Upland Way past Clatteringshaws loch, Lochs dee and Trool and then into Newton Stewart from the north. Time was rolling on however and I didn't fancy finishing in the dark. So as an alternative I turned south at Clatteringshaws on NCN 7 past Loch Grannoch to Gatehouse Station. Despite the commercial forestry this is still a great through route, the bulk of Cairnsmore of Fleet to your right. The weather closed in a bit here but I managed to avoid waterproofs
I came across this fellow on the road south of Loch Grannoch - a slow worm no less. It seemed a bit reluctant to move from the road so I carefully picked it up and placed it in the grass verge. A minute later a car came by which would have squashed it flat! I'd a notion that I faced another climb over to Creetown but in fact you're still pretty high so its only very brief followed by a long, long descent to near sea level.
From Creetown to Newton Stuart NCN 7 follows a fine section of cycleway which I'd had a minor involvement in many years ago but never actually ridden. The pan flat railway line was a blessed relief after the climbs of earlier. Beyond this is all on back road (more hills!) and a final section of cycleway into Newton Stuart itself. I dived into a Gulf station for coffee and food as I was feeling distinctly weary. For some reason I've reverted to scoffing huge amounts of cake and sugar on these long rides. This all seems to stem from singlespeeding. Normally my trail food is pies, crisps, rolls and wraps, with just an odd cake or scone providing me with sugar. Now I seem to be thriving on snickers and any sugar laden snacks. Who knows - I just follow my stomachs cravings....
From Newton Stewart NCN 73 takes you to Wigton via more ace cycleway and yet another great wee road by the Cree estuary, my route of earlier clearly visible on the other side. Finally a quiet-ish road to Monreith over rolling hills and farmland, 88 miles done in eight hours. I'd texted my Mum earlier to forewarn them of my arrival but as it happened she hadn't checked the phone so got quite a shock when I suddenly re-appeared having left them on Sunday with a shout of "see you at Christmas!" I spent some more quality time with them checking out the views, drinking my Dads beer and eating fine food. No photos but you could now see Ireland (The Mourne Mountains) clearly, heralding better weather to come.
Yes and no. A brief storm front was to pass through in the early hours but it was to be dry thereafter. The best news was the stiff south-westerly wind which would propel me the whole way back to Moffat - serious redemption after my headwind battles of late. Lo and behold the rain did pass through and when I surfaced the next morning it was dry and breezy.
My route back to Moffat would be as direct as possible, given that I was doing it in a oner. This involved a fair bit of A road bashing to Newton Stuart but the A712 beyond here was nigh on deserted. This must be one of the last places in the UK where the main roads are still quiet. Don't tell anyone! At Clatteringshaws loch I sat in the sun for a bit eating lunch watching the view and full rainbow over the loch (my photo of this was a blur....) Beyond New Galloway was another steady climb on another empty A road then another (!) empty wee road over a damp looking moor.
This was all with a stiff following wind making for easy pedaling, even on the climbs. Then a long descent to Dunscore and Auldgirth, the only way across the River Nith between Dumfries and Thornhill. More wee roads back to Ae finishing up with the monster climb past my bivvy spot, back to Moffat a 6. Today had still been 83 miles but it had only taken me 6 3/4 hrs!
Only November and December to do - I'm on the home straight!
